The devil you know II
by whashaza
Summary: Continuation of The devil you know. Chapter 2 uploaded.
1. Guilt

Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are fictitious, and any similarity to a real person, living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintended by the author. I'm just borrowing the characters…so don't sue.

_Damn, ok. Having three stories going at the same time has to be insane. Go ahead, blame my muse. She just didn't want to leave me alone on this one. _

**The devil you know**** II**

**By**

**Whashaza**

**Guilt**

It had been two months since Tony's death. He had thought that with time it would become easier but it hurt just as bad as the first time the doctor had entered the waiting room. He had thought that with Shannon and Kelly he would get over it sooner. It wasn't as if he was not experienced with death or the consequences thereof. The lonely nights that crept up to you, reminding you that you were, once again, alone in this world. Tony had been like a son to him, a part of his family and he had allowed himself to care.

And it had all been his fault. His mistake. His leadership that had ended up killing Tony.

For a moment he wondered why he was the one living when so many younger, better people around him kept dying.

Frustrated by his lack of answers, he finally turned on his bed lamp. He turned on his back, staring at his ceiling. Snatches of conversations he had had with his wife and daughter intruded in-between the ones he had had with Tony. Soon a mish mash of voices sent him from the warmth of his bed downstairs.

The skeleton of the boat he was busy molding stared back at him. The hurt inside still didn't want to go away so he did the only rational thing he could. He picked up a sander, feeling the wood beneath him. Slowly he started, smoothing the timber beneath his hands.

_"I've finished typing up the report for the Schuler case. It should be open and shut, Boss."_

Something burned behind his eyes and he stopped long enough to take his bottle of bourbon out of the cupboard. Ignoring his mug, he took it straight out of the bottle. A slight burning sensation later, he picked up the sander again.

_"Tony, where are you?"_

_Tony's voice was filled with relief. "I don't know? I'm locked in a room somewhere." Tony paused, gathering his voice before continuing, "There's no light."_

_"Are you hurt?"_

_Tony ignored the question. "There's…two guys…James and Mike. Another older man. Looks distinguished. Mike killed…"_

This time he downed a quarter of the bottle before wiping at the irritated burn behind his eyes. He should've known better, should've realized. Should've done something. Should've heard that his agent was drugged, was struggling.

"Dammit!"

_Silence filtered through thick until Mike's voice came through dangerously low. "What do you propose?"_

"_Release my agents and I'll give you the box. Or, I'll let my forensics team play with it until they find answers."_

_A short burst of laughter sounded, curling the hairs on Gibb's neck. "You could have done that already. Sorry Gibbs. Their death is on your conscience."_

The sander hit the wall with an audible thud. The boat didn't help anymore. Taking the bottle, he took another swig as he slowly slid down the wall. Why did it have to be Tony? Why didn't the damn bastard just go to his place? He clenched his eyes shut and leaned his head back against the wall. Tony's death was his fault. He was the one responsible and he had messed up. Big time.

"_Tony, you still up for this?"_

"_Still breathing, Boss."_

Why hadn't he listened? The pause before DiNozzo had answered his question should've alerted him to the fact that his agent wasn't really up for this. Blindly he took another drink, feeling the alcohol burn its way down into his stomach. He felt the familiar feeling come over him, telling him that he wasn't very far from getting drunk.

"_Not before I see my agents relea__sed unharmed. Where is agent DiNozzo?" Gibbs studied Kate's body language with a strangely intensified paralysis. The guard next to him stiffened slightly, a finger curling around the trigger. _

"_Agent DiN__ozzo is unfortunately otherwise engaged." Mike smiled, his eyes wide and empty of any emotion. "You'll join him soon enough. I'm sure you have a lot to discuss."_

He should've killed Mike right there. He should've put a bullet right between his eyes. He's a damn coward, a failure. He should've known. Should've protected Tony. Should've e anticipated.

He should've known.

_Tony was lying on the ground, a limp rag doll of flesh. He couldn't detect any movement. For a moment he panicked and didn't know what he was supposed to do next. It lasted only an instant before he found himself kneeling next to his agent, reaching out to touch flesh. It was too cold. He could see the exit wound just to the left of Tony's right shoulder blade. It looked ugly and was still seeping fluid._

He blinked and looked at the empty bottle in his hand. A moment later it shattered against the wall, right next to where the sander lay forgotten. It hurt too badly and he had no idea how to fix himself. How to fix his team. He couldn't even fix Tony.

A sob escaped before he could suppress it. Shadows danced and for a moment he thought he saw Tony grinning at him from the corner. He half rose, his eyes wide as he tried to see through the darkness, searching for the familiar glint of teeth.

Nothing.

Disappointed, he pulled himself upright, staring at the boat that he had been building on now for the past two years. He could feel the built up of energy that needed an outlet. Tears burned his eyes again and the hollowness in his chest didn't want to let up. He grabbed a long forgotten base ball bat and hefted it in his hand.

With a scream of grief and rage, he let go and swung the bat.

_

* * *

_

_She didn't allow her fear to show. Her hands clenched by her sides and then out of nowhere; Tony rose like a spectre next to her, his eyes wide and non-seeing. He rushed towards Mike and she watched in shock and horror as Mike's gun hand rose again, the barrel unerringly tracking Tony's movements. _

_She couldn't help it. She screamed when the loud report echoed and numbness left her rooted to the ground as Tony staggered forward and then finally crashed to the ground. _

_Brian was crying. She could see his chest heaving as tears escaped. Tony wasn't moving. _

_Why is he not moving?_

_Somehow, somewhere she found strength to stumble her way towards his body. She kneeled by his side, ignoring the guns pointed at her. _

"_Tony…"_

_He didn't respond. She reached a trembling hand towards his face before drawing back. She couldn't face this. Not here and not now. She still had no idea what was going on. Tears brimmed, threatening to overflow as she looked up at Mike._

"_Why?"_

_He shrugged, dropping the gun and increasing his hold on the boy. _

"_Ask Gibbs?"_

She jerked upwards, fighting to untangle her legs from the suffocating hold of the sheets. Finally free, she swung her legs of the bed. She made her way towards the bathroom, feeling the onset of another headache. She leaned against the sink and then turned the knobs, sliding her hands beneath the running water and splashing her face with it. She didn't need to look at her reflection to know how she looked.

Tired.

Kate made her way back to her room and lowered herself on the bed, resting her head in the palms of her hands. She didn't blame Gibbs. Haven't even asked him what Mike had meant when he had told her why he had shot Tony.

She blamed herself. She should've stopped Tony, should've known that he would try something like that. She had just stood there and watched him get shot. All her training had meant nothing. Zilch. Nada.

All this was her fault.

She rubbed her throbbing temples, trying to make the headache fade. It wasn't really working and she leaned over, taking the prescription bottle that stood on the bed table. Dry swallowing two, she closed the lid.

It didn't matter to her anymore that she was used to the chalky taste of the tablets or that the bottle usually lasted no more than two weeks. What mattered was that her headache would fade and with it the pain in her side where the shrapnel had lodged itself. Sometimes, she would manage to convince herself that it was her injuries that had prevented her from moving fast enough to intercept Tony's mad dash. It was what kept her sane in the times she doubted herself the most.

Feeling the familiar heaviness from the drugs, she sighed and slid down her bed, hugging her pillow as she curled around it.

She will never ask Gibbs.

Tony died because of her.

* * *

His quick breaths filled the room, his muscles aching. Dust filled the air, clogging his nostrils and drying his mouth. The remains of his boat stared back at him, broken and defeated. All he had left was raw emotion. He continued to stare blindly at the destruction before him, his mind empty of voices for the first time in a long while. He gave a half smirk, appreciating the irony of it all.

His cell finally interrupted. He didn't look at the caller ID. It would probably by Abby. It was her way of dealing with Tony, to talk and cry while he did nothing but grunt and listen.

Tony had left a hole big enough that he wondered if it wouldn't swallow all of them one day.

Looking down, he finally pressed the call button, ending the ringing and bringing the phone to his ear.

"Boss… it's me."

The sound of the bat hitting the floor echoed back.

_

* * *

_

_Do you want more…Let my muse know. ;-)_


	2. Secrets

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

_Thank you for the reviews. _

**Secrets**

Kate watched the sunrise from her sitting room window. She was seated on the windowsill, a blanket wrapped warmly around her. She had watched too many sunrises lately. Her dreams were plagued with what ifs, leaving her with almost no rest and a throbbing headache that didn't want to go away.

Tony didn't deserve to die, she thought; she deserved it.

She leaned her head against the window and rubbed her temple, trying to make the pain fade away. The light was getting stronger but despite that fact, she didn't turn her gaze away. She hugged herself, feeling the scar beneath her right hand. Tracing it softly, she once again tried to imagine another scene to her recurring nightmares. One where she was strong enough, quick enough and didn't have to see Tony being shot with cold calculation.

She needed to see it.

…_she watched in shock and horror as Mike's gun hand rose again, the barrel unerringly tracking Tony's movements… _

She tried to clear the images from her mind but despite herself, continued to relive those last few seconds in detail. Drawing her knees up, she hugged them close, wanting nothing more but for her visions to change into something better, to a place where Tony was still alive.

Her watch beeped. She sighed, banishing her demons to the back of her mind and made her way towards her bedroom.

* * *

This time of the morning the bull-pen was usually quiet. She settled into her chair, her gaze inadvertently drifting towards Tony's desk and his empty chair. This early she can still imagine him being alive. She smiled when an image of her partner leaning back in his chair, giving his trademark smile emerged briefly.

She was interrupted in her thoughts when the lift doors opened. She glanced at the bottom right of her screen, noting the time. It was still a little early for the normal crowd but she had gotten used to the odd agent coming in to finish paper work or work on individual leads.

This time it was McGee and she frowned, wondering why he would be here. She followed him with her eyes until he stopped just in front of her desk, his back to Tony's.

"Hi Kate."

He met her eyes briefly and then looked away, obviously nervous. She swallowed and returned the greeting.

"I…uh, Abby wanted to know…that's if you want…if you like to have lunch with us."

Self-consciously she ran her hand through her hair and then smiled at McGee. "Yeah, sure. That would be nice."

McGee nodded in response, his hand tucking at his jacket sleeve. "Are you ok?" The words came out rushed and she glanced at her screen, noting that barely a minute had passed since McGee had come to stood before her desk.

"I'm fine, McGee," she replied, allowing a note of irritation to creep into her voice. It had worked in the past, sending the agent scurrying towards his desk with an apology. This time it didn't. McGee took a deep breath, steeling himself when he said with as much conviction as he could, "You're not sleeping, are you?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes and silently daring him to continue.

"Y…you have to talk to someone, Kate."

"I already did and the department shrink has vetted me for active duty."

McGee sighed, his shoulders drooping downwards but his eyes that met hers were determined. "You've lost weight; you're eyes are bloodshot and how many refills of your pain meds did you have in the past month?"

"It's none of your business," she snapped, rising swiftly and aggressively. She brushed past him, angry at his intrusion and feeling vulnerable because of it. A soft hand on her arm stopped her and she stood with her back to him, waiting.

"We all miss him, Kate."

Tears threatened and it was with iron will that she held them back. He let go and she didn't move. She could sense his indecision and then he moved away and she made her way towards the bathroom, not wanting to share her grief any more than was already necessary.

* * *

"McGee, is Gibbs in yet?"

"He's not at his desk and I didn't see him come in."

"He didn't leave his phone on his desk by any chance?"

"Wait, let me check," McGee stated before making his way over to Gibbs' desk. A quick search didn't reveal the cell and he returned to his own desk phone.

"I don't see it. Why are you asking, Abby?"

"It's probably nothing. I've tried to phone him and he's not answering."

"Do you want me to track his GPS signal?"

"Do you mind?"

"Ok, hold on," McGee stated while he opened the software. He frowned when the location flashed back at him, "That's weird?"

"What is it, McGee?"

"It shows that his phone is right here in this building but…."

"Maybe he's in MTAC or with Ducky," Abby paused and then distractedly continued, "No, I phoned Ducky before I phoned you and Gibbs was definitely not there yet, so that leaves MTAC."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess so. Do you want me to tell Gibbs that you want to see him?"

"Please McGee, it's really important."

"Okay," he said and then glanced over at Kate's desk. Not seeing her, he hunkered down and said, "Kate agreed to lunch."

"Why do I hear a but in there, McGee? What did you do?"

He straightened self-righteously. "Nothing. I…she's still not…"

"She's not talking to me either," Abby interrupted, "Don't worry, McGee. I've got a plan."

* * *

It was just before noon when McGee entered MCTAC, grimacing slightly as he realised that he was the last one that responded to the summons. He started to mumble an apology but one look from the director and his words dried up. He silently took a seat just behind Ducky as the director indicated to one of the technical staff to load a video and soon images began to appear on the screen.

"This is a local detention centre just west of the city. I want you to pay attention and then I want one of you to explain."

The knot in McGee's stomach tightened and he was suddenly worried when he noticed for the first time that Gibbs wasn't in the room. On the screen the camera angle changed from the wide panoramic view of the detention centre towards a downward angle of a desk. McGee felt confusion when a familiar figure entered the area and signed in, leaving his gun and phone behind.

"_I need the transfer papers for the prisoner."_

The man grunted something unintelligible and took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it over. The guard inspected the form before stamping it and handing it back over.

"_You can go through. Are you sure you don't want an escort?"_

"_Don't need an escort."_

"_Okay, but you'll have to sign that I advised you and you chose not to agree."_

"_Fine."_

McGee shifted nervously in his seat when the image on the screen time shifted and a view of the yard showed with a lone car parked close to a door. It opened and two guards, a tall guy in a prison uniform and Gibbs stepped out. McGee squinted as he tried to make out who the prisoner was. His head was bent, obscuring his face while blond hair shifted in a light breeze. He turned and got into the backseat and Gibbs bent in and seemed to be adjusting something before closing the door and moving around the car and getting into the driver's seat. A moment later the car drove off while the two guards continued to stare after it.

The camera angle changed again, this time looking down on a gate that swung open and then the car moved into view. Morrow must've arranged for this to happen because the next instant the frame froze and McGee could finally make out the person in the backseat. He was facing out the window, smiling.

McGee flinched at the soulless eyes that stared back at him, knowing instinctively why the Director was so pissed. He had no idea why or how and judging from similar expressions on his team mates features, neither did they.

"Can anyone explain to me what Gibbs was thinking?"

"Jethro never does anything without reason," Ducky stated confidently. From where McGee sat, he could trace the tension lines in the ME's taut neck muscles making him wonder what Ducky was hiding.

"Really? Then why would he feel the need to counterfeit transfer papers with my name on it?"

"Why don't you phone him and ask?"

"Because he left his phone in my office in the second drawer of my desk."

* * *

Kate stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was empty except for a six pack. Wondering once again at the eating habits of men, she closed the door. The cabinets held plates and an assortment of mugs with one or two tinned cans of chicken soup. Finding nothing that would help explain Gibbs' behaviour, she turned towards the stairs and his bedroom.

The room looked barely lived in. The air in the room smelled musty, reminding her of her grandmother and the moth balls she used to put in the closets. The attached bathroom was clean with nothing but the essentials scattered around the room. The only thing really out of place was the small mount of dust-covered clothes in the corner of the room. She retreated and made her way back down the stairs just as McGee emerged from the hallway.

"Found anything?"

"I'm not sure." She turned and glanced at McGee. "Have you checked the basement yet?"

McGee shook his head as they took the stairs down. "Why do you think Gibbs did what he did?"

"I don't…" she trailed off when she finally saw the destruction. Her gun was in her hand, pointed downwards even as she came to the realisation that the room was empty. Against one wall were the broken remains of glass next to a discarded sander. The boat had been thrashed; there was no better way to describe it. She startled when a hand touched her.

"Kate, are you all right?"

She nodded.

"You kind-of faded away there for a moment. I was worried."

"He must've really hurt to be able to do this," she whispered, picking up one of the broken pieces. The wood was still smooth despite the fact that the edges were raw and splintered.

"Kate?"

She glanced at McGee, noting his concerned gaze. "I'm fine, McGee. Phone the director. Tell him we didn't find anything."

"But you said…"

"Just do it, McGee," she snapped. She turned a moment later to apologise. It was too late. McGee had already disappeared up the stairs.

* * *

Story telling was second nature to Ducky and when the ME was silent, things were usually dire. And Ducky had not said much to anyone since the last meeting with the Director. He had not commented on the fact that Kate and McGee had not found anything at Gibbs' place. His phone interrupted his thoughts and he was about to answer when Palmer entered the morgue, a few minutes early. He stopped the call and slid the phone in his jacket.

"Who was that, Doctor?"

"Oh, no one important, Mr. Palmer."

"Okay doctor. So, what do you want me to do?"

* * *

Kate paused just outside Abby's lab and took a deep breath before entering. Abby turned from her workstation, a piece of Gibbs' shirt in her hands. She looked tired, her eyes red and puffy, her makeup failing to conceal the fact that she had probably cried herself to sleep last night.

"There's nothing but dust, Kate."

"Thanks, Abby. I didn't really think we'll find anything."

Abby sniffed and placed the shirt on the table. "Gibbs has never disappeared like this before. Not even after Tony…" She trailed off and leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air. Kate pushed her feelings of guilt deep down before they could surface and reminded herself to breathe.

"I'm sure this is temporary and that he'll be back tomorrow."

Despite the fact that they both knew it was highly unlikely, Abby's posture lifted. "You think so?"

Kate nodded while she absently played with her phone. It all came down to telling yourself lies and willing it to be true even though you know for a fact it's not.

"What about his phone?"

"Oh, McGee said he'll run through the numbers received and called while I worked on the stuff from Gibbs' house."

* * *

"Ducky, can I talk to you for a sec, please."

"Can it wait, Timothy? I'm in the middle of an autopsy here."

"No, it can't."

Ducky glanced at Palmer and then stepped away, removing his bloodied gloves and headpiece. When they were in the hallway, Ducky said, "Come on, out with it Timothy."

"You were the last call he made from his phone. I think you know what's going on?"

Ducky stiffened slightly. "Jethro did call me last night but you're wrong in your assumption that I have full knowledge of why Gibbs chose to take that bastard from the prison."

"But you know something, right?"

Ducky sighed. "I'm sorry, Timothy but it was told to me in confidence." He answered and headed for the door, "I can't help you any further."

_

* * *

_

_Let me know what you think. ;-)_


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